


Mercy

by Dana



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Gen, mostly gen with slight hints of vague het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5456486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie's caught up in something she can't escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talkingtothesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/gifts).



> Happy birthday, **talkingtothesky**!  <3<3<3 Kind of weird Annie-pov? I kind of like it anyhow and I think I managed to get across what I wanted to, so! It's all good! Happens at the end of 1x08, so episode related angst follows, as well as direct dialogue! Apparently a thing I love to do for you is write you Annie fic [for your birthday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3137861)! :D
> 
> Bit of a beta by **xysabridde**! Any left over mistakes are all mine.

She's in the forest, greenery all around her – there's no one else in sight, particularly the lone man she's on the look out for. This isn't the best idea she's ever had, but the entire day's thrown her for a loop. She doesn't quite know what she's doing, but it's hardly the first dangerous thing she's ever done in this job. Just saving Sam from himself is harder, and more dangerous. She's pulled him back from the edge, countless times now – but it was only the first time he was literally standing on an edge.

Annie grips her radio, a life line, the only thing that matters – and right now, until she finds Vic Tyler, it is. Back up is coming. She's alone right now, but that won't last. She's alone right now, but she isn't really afraid. Back up is coming, and it won't be long...

She's been here before, but only in dreams. She's walked this path, the only thing that differs now is that she's awake. The greenery, her lost amidst the trees... Maybe Annie needs to stop listening to Sam's mad natterings – is insanity something that you can catch, like getting a cold?

Annie takes a deep breath, steadying herself. She lifts the radio up, is proud of herself for not shaking in her heels. 'Can you hear me, sir? Please come in.'

She waits for a response. She isn't left waiting long.

'I can hear you.' Not Sam, or Gene, or – or whomever she'd hoped might be there on the other side. The radio is cold in her hand, silent. No, it's Vic Tyler, and his voice sets her stomach to twisting in knots. Annie turns round to face him, hiding her fear as she holds her head high – keep it together, she has to keep it together. Even if she's not made the right decision, there's no reason for her to panic... panicking won't do her any good.

She watches him, waiting – the moment digs beneath the flesh, an itch she can't scratch. He's thin, he doesn't look intimidating, and he's hardly any taller than she is. He's watching her in return, coldly calculating, and the weight of his gaze causes her discomfort to grow. It's cold in her gut, heart pounding in her chest.

Sam thinks this is her father, and even if it _were_ possible – she knows it isn't, she isn't daft (but what does that make Sam?) – it couldn't be true. But there's an ease in the way he moves that makes her see Sam in his place, and just like she knows that letting herself panic won't do her any good, neither will that line of thinking.

Annie's going to stand her ground. He might make her skin crawl, but he's just one man – even if she's only one woman. She clings to her radio like it's a weapon, a shield, and it's true enough that it's the only thing that stands between them. It couldn't possibly save her if there's no one on the other side.

He's not stopping. She takes a step back, and she doesn't feel like a complete failure. He's given some, and she's taking it back.

'I'm a police officer.' Annie hears her own voice coming from a distance: so small, so afraid, but hopefully that's just her own ears playing tricks on her – if she's lucky, it doesn't show in her voice. She's standing outside herself, the show is rolling along but she doesn't feel in control.

She doesn't regret her decision to leave before back up arrived, because it's too late for that now. She's here, and so is he, alone in the forest. If he attacked her... she knows he's a killer. If he attacked her, what would she do? Defend herself, even as she studies him. He doesn't look strong, but appearances can be deceiving. His mouth twitches, fire leaping in his eyes.

'They planted you like a little CID stooge. Waiting for me. Spying... on my family. Well, you got no right. It's my life. My — life!' He continues to advance on her, relentless, dangerous. 'Give me that radio!'

It happens so fast. They struggle over her radio, the ice grown leaden in her stomach, her heart beating its way out of her chest. Always taking risks, she just can't help herself, whether it's her offering Sam a hand to hold, or her following a murderer into the forest. One thing blurs into the other, Sam's face, then Vic's, and that's Vic punching her in the face. She goes down, just as leaden as the weight inside her that's dragging her down. She's going to die today, isn't she?

(This is it. This is where it happens, this is where it ends.)

His eyes are wild, he's dangerous – it's a dangerous job, she should have listened to the Guv. Why does she always have to resent Sam for caring about her, for not wanting her to be harmed? She wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Sam, God, doesn't he know what this bloody mess with Vic Tyler has done to them all?

(Bloody mess – that's what she'll leave. He'll kick her until she – )

She's only ever wanted to show her fellow officers that she could take care of herself. But maybe there's a victim in all of them, just waiting for the right moment, then moment when –

Annie can't think that, whatever it is, and she doubts there's any point in thinking on it over-much. She did the wrong thing. Even she can see that.

Sam. Where is Sam?

'Wait!'

Sam bursts out from – had he been waiting? Had he been hiding, watching? Annie doesn't know, and she doesn't much care, because it's _Sam_. It's a discrepancy between reality and dreaming – whenever she dreamed this happening, Sam was never there. Her eyes burn, but it's a happy pain – she's never been so glad to see any one person in her life, and she lets out a ragged breath.

_Sam._

'Vic. You don't have to run anymore.'

Annie looks up – back at Sam – he's advancing on Vic, cautiously, not the way that Vic had been coming for her. Only, somehow – one of his arms is stretched out, hand out as though to gentle a startled animal – Sam's never seemed as dangerous to her as he does right now, dangerous, relentless in his own way. He's walking a deadly line, not that he ever really makes _sense_ , but now he's placating a _murderer_ – 

Her would-be murderer –

And what that means is, he's saving her life.

It's hardly a storybook rescue, it's hardly the back up she expected. Sam focused on Vic, like he's going to talk him down, the heavy dread in her stomach has been replaced with something else – now, Annie simply feels sick. Sick, yes, but overwhelmingly relieved, as confusing as that seems. The itching beneath her skin eases off, and she can _breathe_.

'I can... I can protect you. '

And it works, if this is meant to be her rescue, Sam's madness working to her advantage, just this once. He seems to do the right thing but goes about it the completely wrong way – he's held her career in her hands, and now he's holding her life. Vic, though, is completely distracted by Sam, and Annie knows an opening when she sees one. She starts picking herself up as she drag herself backwards, carefully, slowly. She can do this, give Sam the support he doesn't even know he needs – she does it anyhow, doesn't she? She's always there for Sam, and right now he's doing the same for her.

Sam's got to be trying his hardest, but he can always use the extra help. She's in position now – Annie kicks out with all her strength, catching Vic in the groin.

Vic doubles over – 'No!' and that's Sam, shouting – and the gun he'd hidden from the both of them tumbles out, falling to the ground.

Annie's voice is loud, so very loud, in her own ears – and maybe, this time, it isn't just a trick. She sounds secure, that she knows what she's doing, that she's catching the bad guy – with Sam's help, of course.

'Vic Tyler, I'm arresting you – '

'Wait, Annie,' and just like that, Annie _waits_ , because it's Sam who's asked her, as though he knows what he needs to do – that he, mad as anything, is the only one who can make sense of all this wrong. Vic is still in pain, trying to catch his breath, and if any of this is really happening, it isn't happening to her. She's still outside herself, she's not in control at all, and even when she struck out at Vic – that was someone else pulling at her strings. Sam walks towards the gun, not at all cautiously, reaches down and picks it up, gripping it in his hand.

'What's this for?' For such a small, simple question, it's filled with too much pain – if feeling so small had made Annie feel vulnerable, Sam only sounds hurt. Hurt. _This isn't your father_ , she wants to tell him. But if it were –

Oh, it's breaking her heart, and it's already broken Sam's.

Still on the ground, Vic's gaping, breathing hard, and it's all lies he spews – how he kept it to fend off the Mortons, or maybe end himself if that was what it's come to, and Annie sees it even though Sam doesn't. Sam, even more dangerous now than he'd been so recently. She's losing him, he's going beyond her reach – he's going to go so far, one of these days, she'll never be able to pull him back.

One of these days. Right now. He's gone. She's never getting him back.

'Let me have it, Sam.'

And Vic, still down on his knees, reaches for the gun.

Sam can't. Sam wouldn't. Sam –

But she sees it. She _sees_ it. Whatever madness is in Sam's head, him thinking this might be his father, no, not just thinking it, but believing it, and he'll hand that gun over and Vic Tyler will end up killing them both.

And if it hadn't been for the Guv showing up, his own gun in hand, staring Vic down, that's what would have happened. One more time Annie had been that close to death, and one more time, the both of them had been involved. But it's not that easy, is it, never that easy, not when Sam –

Her life is a picture book. Some child keeps turning the pages, and all Annie can do is let the story unfold around her.

'What are you doing?' Sam asks, rooted in place, eyes wide, almost wild. It makes her think of Vic, how Vic made her think of Sam.

The Guv doesn't waver. 'Do you wanna tell him, Vic, or shall I?'

More lies, Vic's soft voice. 'Tell him what?'

'A known associate of the Mortons had Vic's hotel room details. We've got film that shows he was at a porno shoot. He was at the snooker club, where we found Jimmy Lips and the manager dead.'

The Guv's so steady – and Sam, listening to him, like he doesn't believe him at all, like it's just rubbish that he's spewing, that it's Gene that's been telling him the lies. Sam looks back at the Guv, shaking his head. 'Guv, this – this is – ' More pain. The child who's lost his father, the man who could lose the world.

Gene lowers his gun – only now that that Sam's got a proper dialogue going with him, perhaps – but he continues on. 'There was no one at the club, Sam. Just him. We've only got his word that the Morton brothers were there. We never searched him. He could've had a gun himself.'

And that, really, is that, one thing leading to another (he's rotten, Sam. We've got to bring him in), but the words are paper on her tongue – is she even speaking them at all? When the Guv starts moving towards Sam, advancing on him with all the patience Sam had shown with Vic, Sam does the impossible, the unthinkable – Sam turns the gun (Vic's gun) – back on the Guv. There's a pause, and a breath. Somewhere in the greenery, an animal moves, and Annie's already broken heart turns to ice, breaking all over again. Dust and more dust.

Gene breaks the quiet, with just seven words: 'Now that's an odd thing to do.'

Simple thing to say, but it speaks volumes, and the cold runs out of her like blood. Sam's eyes have gone beyond wild now, there's a different world lurking there in the dark, and he's turning on them, they've lost him forever.

Small again, just as hurt. 'You don't want me to leave.'

Nothing, the Guv's not saying a word. Sam's breaking in front of them, like Annie's already finished breaking. _No_ , she can't say, wants to scream it. She can't offer him her hand this time – he's already falling, there's no coming back.

'But I _have_ to leave, Gene.'

Stress, Sam is clearly under stress, and Annie says just that. Doesn't he see that? He needs to step back, take a look at things, calm down –

It's hard to look at him, after that – because he saved her, in his own way, even if he was plumb bonkers about it (in that way that is only his). And it scares her, because she should know better than to keep messing with him, but Annie's not sure she can stop. Maybe because, even after all this time, he's still at risk of just flying off, more than just him standing on the edge. She can't just let him go.

The staring doesn't stop, not until Sam buckles, breaking all over again, as he lowers the gun. Vic, like a startled animal – that again, he's the one who's truly wild – makes a dart for it, running off into the green.

'Listen to me,' Sam says. The moment afterwards skips a beat, uncertain, too heavy.

'Write it down,' Gene snaps at him. 'I'll read it later.'

They're gone, in a flash, Annie alone all over again. She stares out into the emptiness, her heart pumping again, roaring alive. Standing there, she presses a hand to her chest, stutters on a breath. She can feel it... Just how close she came, to dying. She escaped the inevitable, she's living on someone else's time. But she feels now, in a way she hadn't when the world had gone beyond her control – her breath and her skin, the itching is gone, even the rapid roaring of her heart. There's a sense of right left where there'd only been wrong.

'Don't just stand around staring at nothing, Cartwright,' she snaps at herself, into the empty green. No one's listening.

Annie isn't as lost as she thought she was. She makes her way back to the community centre, and that's where she finds Sam – outside, alone, fresh pain in his eyes. She wants to set a hand on his arm, or kiss him, or tell him everything will be okay. He's dangerous, and he's different – he'll never quite make sense, will he? But that doesn't stop her from wanting to make it all right.

He doesn't seem to notice her – does he ever? Is she even real? The pain in her chest is real enough, as is the cold that still runs sluggish in her veins. I had a funny dream, she'd like to say. A hundred of them, actually. You were never in that dream, only – today – you were. And doesn't that mean something, Sam? Today's the day I should have died.

He walks by her, and Annie speaks up. She doesn't say what she could have, only speaking his name. 'Sam?'

He stops, but he doesn't look at her.

'Do you see now?' She wants to say the right thing – for him, for her, but the words are too complicated, or maybe they just don't exist. 'Nothing can make you wake up because you're already awake.' You're real, Sam – and so am I. You saved my life today, doesn't that matter at all?

He turns around, slowly, his expression gone haggard. 'I'm afraid I'm never going to believe that...' And she aches, more, for how very lost he is. She can see it in his eyes, she can hear it in his voice. He's come back to her, but could he possibly want to stay? 'But you should know...'

Sam reaches out, quietly puts his hand on Annie's cheek. It startles her, when she had been the one who'd wanted to reach out – she'd been unable to, in the end. She begins to draw back – what if someone saw? It's that question that makes her change her mind. She doesn't care if anyone were to see, even if that someone were Gene.

'I don't hate everything about this place.'

Sam's so very good at saying the wrong thing, but meaning it the right way. She smiles, even through the sudden lump in her throat, and her smiling gives Sam reason to smile in return. It's small, and sad – likely just as small and sad as the one she's giving to him – but she knows it's a start. It's the only right ending to a very wrong day.

It's something. There doesn't seem to be anything left to say. Sam turns away and begins to walk off, and Annie considers following.

It isn't her place, but she thinks she'd like it to be.

Annie looks down at her dress, suddenly feels like she's all worked up and over nothing at all – funny how that happens, now that the danger has passed. She doesn't really like the cut of this dress anyhow, how could she have ever thought it would be flattering to wear?

She'll throw it out, or send it to charity, or burn it, if that's what it takes – if she ever wears it again, it'll be too soon.


End file.
